“You’re wasting your time. Push yourself! You’re suppossed to be uncomfortable!“
The voice is so subtle, I almost forget its there, but steadily it pushes me harder, further and faster. Not to be confused with “higher, further, faster” from Captain Marvel. The voice echoes in my mind like a drill sergeant telling me to ignore my body, focus and push past my limits. While that push is useful from time to time, it isn’t meant to ring out during each and every run. Yet for me, it does.
Moreover, the drill sergeant doesn’t just ask that I try harder. When I come up short, and I often do, he is there to berate me as well. Criticism my effort, dedication and intention. This is the voice I contend with on a daily basis
The self-criticism isn’t limited to my workouts either. I hear the judgment in my relationships, at work and even when I’m relaxing. In fact, sometimes I feel guilty for relaxing because I imagine everything I could be doing instead. If I’m not careful, the constant judgment allows shame to seep into my consciousness, coating every thought and infecting every emotion as I’m left wondering:
What is wrong with me?
The answer seems obvious: I’m not enough. Not strong enough, disciplined enough, tough enough, etc…My inadequacies continue to play in my mind on shuffle. Every time I make a mistake, real or perceived, the aforementioned question rings out and unleashes as a flash flood of guilt which cascades into the deepest, most vulnerable parts of my being.
For example: I was speaking with someone close to me about my own struggles with the parts of myself that demand perfection and restraint and the parts that demand freedom and enjoyment. Seemingly out of nowhere they offerred up this nugget of truth.
“I think there has to be a balance. For instance, you go too far sometimes in your quest for freedom. In fact, you even sound like a pig on occassion. I don’t think people want to tell you that, so no one brings it up, but I’ve seen it. You can be pigish (objectifying or demeaning to women).”
I sat there dumbfounded and embarrassed. My first reaction was defensive. Then confused because it felt off-topic, but I slowly realized that I trust this person, so if they’re telling me this, its likely true. As this dawned on me, my inner dialogue turned negative. “I’m such a hypocrite. Can I even call myself a feminist anymore? I bet a lot of people think I’m two-faced. I talk about feminism and mansplain, but when it comes down to it, I’m no better than anyone else.”
I was definitely shaken. For better or worse, the opinions of people, particularly those close to me still matter a lot. So as I imagined all of the people who might also think I act pigish, I felt deeply ashamed.
If that conversation had occurred a year ago, I would’ve been imprisoned by my own self-talk. My mind would have continued to highlight every failure as evidence that I’m broken, flawed and not good enough.
Fortunately that conversation didn’t happen a year ago. It happenned this week. Even more fortunate for me is the fact that two days beforehand, I heard another voice that challenged the drill sergeant.
I was five minutes into my run on Monday when I started to become concerned with my pace. I pushed myself to move faster as my lungs heaved to keep up with the demand I was placing on them. Just as the drill sergeant was starting to demand even more from me, another voice broke through the noise and offerred a soothing admonition.
“Run the run you can.”
The words settled on me like an aloe vera salve for the soul and I soon settled into a rhythm that felt more comfortable. In doing so, I not only reconnected with my body, but I accepted what it was telling me. Rather than the rush of shame and frustration, I felt a gentle peace wash over me. I was hearing the voice of my inner coach.
In fact, the first time I heard the phrase ‘run the run you can’ was from Coach Bennett on the Nike Run Club App. He often starts runs with this gentle admonition. It is a reminder to let go of expectations, pay attention to your body and accept how you’re feeling. While this is great advice for athletes, it is also great advice for life.
That simple phrase is my invitation to be gentle with myself and receive the grace I so readily offer everyone else. In an ideal world, I’d be a perfect feminist ally who never said or did anything offensive. Unfortunately this isn’t a perfect world, so I can fixate on all I should have done or acknowledge my mistake and move forward with what I can do.
So when I was told that I sometimes come off as pigish, I accepted that truth, then offered myself grace. I didn’t spend the evening trying to remember everything I’ve ever said that could have been offensive. I didn’t berate myself or question my feminist credentials. I accepted my mistake, took a few breaths, and let go with the intention to be more aware so that I don’t repeat the same harmful errors.
As you contemplate the places in your life where you most often hear the inner critic, where do you need to accept and let go? These questions may be helpful for you to reflect upon.
What expectations do you need to let go of for yourself, your situation or your relationships? Discontentment is often the result of our refusal to let go of the expectations we hold. You have permission to discard harmful or toxic expectations, so be honest about what needs to fall away.
When was the last time you paid attention to your body? Remember that attention=intention+time.
Which feelings are you unwilling to accept? Our emotions have a lot to teach us, but we can’t learn if we silence them.
If you’ve ever felt the rush of shame from your inner critic, you’re familiar with the voice that works diligently to magnify your inadequacies and highlight your shortcomings. Remember that another voice is also present, inviting you to give yourself grace.
We can’t always run the run we want to, but we most definitely have everything we need to run the run we can. Let that guide you as you journey this week.
P.S. To the person who called me out this week, thank you. One of the most underrated verses in all of scripture is Provers 27:6. I use the NIV translation because it is the first I learned. “Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but the enemy multiplies kisses.” True friends call you out in love.